#Atlanta Test Event

[intheholler]

Appalachia & Southeastern USA LGBTQ+ Resource Masterpost

Under the cut, you'll find queer-focused resources sorted by state.

I have a sister post with donation links for those outside of the region who'd like to help us grow.

If you aren't from the region, I encourage you to find the organization that speaks to you the most, put your money where your mouth is and help us be better.

If you are from the region, I sincerely hope this can help you or someone you know in some way.

This list is inexhaustive as Tumblr is only permitting 100 links (which is also what necessitates the sister post and is why you may not see your contribution unfortunately).

Disclaimer: I do not (necessarily) personally endorse these organizations, nor have I vetted them thoroughly. If I have included anything you know to be detrimental or harmful in any way, please DM immediately me so I can rectify it.

General Regional Resources

Appalachian Outreach organizes events and provides access to resources for the queer community all across Appalachia.

STAY (Central Appalachia) is a youth-led activist organization in central Appalachia.

Trans in the South is a directory for gender-affirming healthcare in the south.

Southerners on New Ground (SONG) is a queer liberation group funding projects, protests, and campaigns to build a queer-friendly south.

Southern Trans Youth Emergency Project (STYEP) connects trans youth affected by anti-trans legislation with gender-affirming healthcare providers in the southeast; they offer grants up to $500 to individuals for emergency support.

Trans Health Project helps trans folks understand, access and utilize their medical insurance. They provide grants for gender-affirming surgeries.

Campaign for Southern Equality provides funding, training and resources for/to queer individuals and activists.

Not region specific, but important all the same: Help suspected transgender John and Jane Does regain their identities.

Resources by State

Alabama

AIDS Alabama helps provide housing to vulnerable individual and families, including helping queer youth find housing.

ALTGO’s list of local resources for gender-affirming care, legal services and generally queer-friendly physical/mental healthcare.

The Knights & Orchids Society provides housing, healthcare, and general support to the Black queer community.

Based in Birmingham, Magic City Acceptance Center offers supportive safe spaces and direct support to 52 counties in Alabama.

Medical Advocacy and Outreach in southern Alabama provides HIV+ care, as well as HIV & hepatitis C testing.

Prism United funds free therapy and hosts gatherings for queer individuals along the Gulf Coast.

Shoals Diversity Center is a Florence-based group that offers mental health services, support groups and other resources for the queer community in the Shoals area.

T.A.K.E. Resource Center provides direct support, grants, housing advocacy and other services for trans women of color in Alabama.

Thrive Alabama facilitates access to queer-focused healthcare services in North Alabama.

Georgia

Carollton Rainbow organizes queer-focused social events in West Georgia and provides tools for advocacy in the community.

Emmaus House is a soup kitchen in Savannah also providing laundry and shower facilities.

Emory is an Atlanta-based, queer-focused law firm.

Feminist Women’s Health Center (I know the name isn’t necessarily ideal, sorry) in Atlanta offers trans-inclusive, affordable medical care. They also provide access to abortions.

First City Network in Savannah provides referral services for healthcare, advocacy, education and mutual aid for queer Georgians.

List of housing assistance in the Savannah area

Stonewall Bar Association of Georgia serves the queer community’s legal needs in Georgia.

Kentucky

AIDS Volunteers of Lexington (AVOL) provides housing and assistance to low-income people living with HIV/AIDS.

Arbor Youth Services provides emergency shelter to queer youth in Louisville, up to age 24.

Berea Human Rights Commission offers free investigations into claims of housing or employment discrimination with a focus on queer folks.

Kentucky Health Justice Network provides referrals to gender-affirming providers, as well as financial assistance for trans healthcare and abortions.

Kentucky Youth Law Project provides free representation to queer youth.

Massive Kentuckian LGBTQ resource list provided by Lexington Pride Center, broken down into easy-to-browse categories.

Louisville Youth Group strives to give queer youth the tools and skills they need to grow personally and facilitate positive change in their communities.

Sweet Evening Breeze helps queer young adults in Kentucky between the ages of 18-24 obtain emergency housing.

Trans Kentucky’s list of gender-affirming healthcare providers across the state

Guide on changing your name following gender-affirming surgeries in Kentucky, and a tool to help you do so.

Louisiana

AcadianaCares supports folks living with HIV/AIDS while providing support to houseless and impoverished individuals.

ACLU Louisiana website.

Community resources in New Orleans, Baton Rouge and Lafayette (much of it only provides addresses and emails, so it’s hard to link individually here).

Directory of trans-focused healthcare providers

List of in-person and online queer support groups. In-person groups are based in Monroe, Lafayette and Baton Rouge.

Mutual aid in Shreveport

Out of the Closet provides clothing for the queer community with multiple locations throughout the state.

OUTnorthla is a queer film-festival hosted by PACE Louisiana.

Queer-forward healthcare in Louisiana.

QUEERPORT is a grassroots org offering a platform for queer creatives.

Tulane Drop-In Clinic provides free medical and social services to runaway and otherwise houseless youth.

Guides for legal name changes in Louisiana.

Mississippi

Capital City Pride hosts pride events, meet-ups and book clubs for the queer community around Jackson.

Gulf Coast Equality hosts drag shows, food drives and other events for the Gulf Coast area.

The Spectrum Center in Hattiesburg offers a community closet, short-term emergency housing, free HIV testing and scheduled support groups/events for the queer community in Hattiesburg.

Violet Valley Bookstore is a queer feminist bookshop owned by a published lesbian author in Water Valley.

Guide for name changes in Mississippi.

North Carolina

Charlotte Transgender Healthcare Group (CTHCG) connects trans folks with gender-affirming care.

Down Home NC helps rural working class communities organize to advocate for their rights.

Guilford Green Foundation & LGBTQ Center provides financial support to queer nonprofits and activist groups in NC to fight anti-queer legislation.

Ladies of the T is provides resources and support to trans and gender non-conforming women of color in the Tri-City area. .

North Carolina Gay and Lesbian Attorneys (NCPMB) provides attorney referrals, visibility, and support for the queer community.

Pitt County Aids Service Organization (PICASO) provides HIV prevention and testing services in Eastern NC, as well as support for individuals living with HIV/AIDS.

Asheville-based Tranzmission’s compilation of trans-focused medical, social and legal resources in WNC.

Triad Health Project provides free HIV testing, contraceptives, prevention outreach, daycare and access to their food pantry in Guilford County.

Durham-based Triangle Empowerment Center provides the queer community with emergency housing, access to PrEP, as well as support groups and other events.

South Carolina

Harriet Hancock Center is a community center offering social support for queer individuals in the Midlands area.

Free gender-affirming gear to South Carolinians!!!

Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA), a queer-focused social justice group

List of queer-friendly medical providers across the state

Uplift Outreach provides safe spaces for queer youth in Spartanburg.

Charleston Black Pride serves the queer POC community in the low country area.

We are Family Charleston’s community center hosts support groups and provides direct support to the queer community around Charleston. They offer microgrants to trans individuals in the state as well as in-person support groups and aforementioned free stuff for trans folks.

Closet Case is a thrift store by and for queer individuals, operated by We Are family, offering safe and affordable clothes shopping.

T-Time holds support groups for trans individuals, based in Myrtle Beach.

Palmetto Community Care provides confidential HIV testing and support as well as free contraceptives.

South Carolina based community support network for the trans community

Legal assistance in Columbia, SC/Midlands area

Guide on changing your name in South Carolina

List of queer-safe, gender-affirming care providers in Columbia, SC

Tennessee

CHOICES provides low-cost LGBTQ healthcare, among other services, such as abortions.

Emergency housing in Tennessee for those living with AIDS

Launch Pad helps queer youth among others obtain emergency shelter in the Nashville area.

Metamorphosis provides transitional housing and other emergency support for queer youth between 18 - 24.

Mountain Access Brigade provides abortion funding across the state.

My Sistah’s House in Memphis provides emergency housing and support for queer people of color, as well as access to health services for sex workers.

The Seed Theatre in Chattanooga provides free resources such as binders for the trans community and hosts safe, social spaces.

Tennessee HIV Prevention & Care

Trans Empowerment Project provides support to trans and gender-nonconforming folks around Knoxville.

Youth Villages provides emergency housing for youth under 18.

List of trans-focused healthcare providers across the state.

Virginia

Counseling, free hygiene products, temporary housing and more provided by Side by Side VA

Virginia Home for Boys and Girls partners with Pride Place to provide temporary housing for queer young adults (18-25).

Side by Side VA provides temporary housing for queer youth for up to 6 months.

Nationz, based in Henrico, provides free STI/HIV testing, food pantry, PrEP, and notary services for the queer community.

Justice 4 All provides legal aid for low-income Virginians.

Virginia Rural health Association’s list of gender-affirming healthcare providers

General rural healthcare resources in Virginia

West Virginia

Dr. Rainbow connects folks with queer-friendly care in the state.

Fairness West Virginia’s list of gender-affirming care providers.

Harmony House West Virginia provides queer-friendly shelter for houseless people.

Holler Health Justice is a queer- and POC-led mutual aid organization based in WV, though they seem open to serving all Appalachians.

Holler Health Justice also provides financial/logistic support to West Virginians seeking abortions.

WVFREE connects West Virginians with birth control providers.

Nearby gender-affirming care for trans youth at the Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Transgender Health Center.

#appalachia #appalachian #anti-fascist south #queer #queer resources #alabama #georgia #kentucky #louisiana #mississippi #north carolina #south carolina #tennessee #virginia #west virginia

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, sexual themes/situations, masturbation

A/N: The series will heavily follow the timeline and events of the show but there will be additional non-canonical events/injuries/etc.

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You sat quietly in the passenger seat of Daryl’s truck after the caravan had stopped for a problem with the RV. There had been introductions after you had gathered your bearings during the last stop, and your trauma-addled brain was working overtime to retain the information. 

Along with the RV’s issues, the group was currently saying goodbye to one of their own. It seemed too intimate an affair for you to include yourself, an outsider. The man had been bitten. It was your understanding they were all headed for the CDC in Atlanta, desperate for a cure before the sickness could take him. 

But the fever had won, as it always did.  

You watched as the frail man was carefully moved to the base of a tree, but then averted your gaze as they bid him farewell. They were all affected, heads down as they returned— one by one— to their vehicles. They intended to leave him, per his own wishes. You weren’t sure if that was a choice you could make were you the one in his predicament. It was both admirable and ludicrous. 

Daryl returned to the truck, remaining quiet as he climbed behind the wheel. He hadn’t spoken a word to you, which left you with a tight feeling inside your chest that you couldn’t— wouldn’t—name. You wondered if you were only there because of the possibility that his baby was growing inside of you. It hadn’t been mentioned. 

“I told ya she’s good.”

He hadn’t given the group any information. They knew your name per your own admission, which alone was enough to twist the archer’s face into a scowl. You were a dirty little secret. You had placed your remaining fragments of hope in Daryl after losing everything and he was treating you like he’d left a few loose bills on a dresser after fucking you in a sleazy motel. 

You scrutinized him from the corner of your eye; the way he was tapping the tip of each finger against the steering wheel as he drove. His other arm was resting on the door, the window down, while he rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. The broken skin on the sides of the digit suggested that it was indeed a habit he turned to in times of stress. He was consciously trying not to indulge. 

You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes on the back of the vehicle in front of you. “I’m sorry about your friend.” You dared a glance at the same time he gave you a once over. 

“Weren’t no friend’a mine.”

Lie. You could clearly see he was affected. It was borderline offensive that he’d even try to deny it. “Right. Well, I’m sorry anyway.” The uncomfortable silence stretched on, leaving you with vivid images of your encounters with the redneck. Even after you had told him you might be pregnant, there hadn’t been this thick tension in the air between the two of you. “Thank you.” He looked at you again, barely moving his hand away from his mouth. “For saving me.”

He hummed, this time parting his lips to nip at the irritated skin of his thumb. You wanted so badly to reach over and guide his hand away, but you knew that was a bad idea. 

“Ya take one’a them tests?”

Ah, there it was. Your back slid down the seat while you nervously twisted the hem of your flannel around your index finger. “Uh, no. I lost them when I ran from the camp.” He shot you a look so quickly you thought he might have given himself whiplash. 

“Y’fuckin’ serious?”

You nodded, expecting an outburst, but you still flinched when his fist came down on the doorframe, keeping it clenched when he brought it back to his mouth. “It was an accident. I wasn’t exactly thinking of them when I was wrestling a geek for my bag. Lost most of my clothes and my canteen, too.”

He let out a condescending humph from behind his hand. “Ya sure it’s even mine?”

Now it was your turn to pin him down with a look of your own. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Means exactly wha’ I said.”

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes, along with the urge to throttle him right where he sat, regardless of the fact that he was driving. “Well, there was that other hunter I’d meet at dawn and then the one that would wait patiently until you got your rocks off first.”

“Ya think yer funny?”

“I’m not trying to be funny, asshole. If there’s a baby, unfortunately, it’s yours.” His piercing gaze met your narrowed eyes, only holding for a moment before he had to look back at the road. “Can you pull over?”

“Gon’ puke again?”

“No.” You snapped, angling your body toward the door. “I want to get out.”

“Why?”

“Because being trapped in such a small space with you is going to make me puke. Now, pull over.” 

To his credit, he did slow down. “Nah.” He pressed the gas and easily caught up with the car in front of him. 

“Don’t worry, Daryl. I won’t tell anyone your secret.” You hissed the word with such venom that you swore you could taste the remnants of it on the tip of your tongue. 

“Settle down. Ain’t lettin’ ya out so ya can get yer fool self killed.” 

You threw yourself back against the seat with more force than necessary, crossing your arms. You wondered if you suddenly began to pray that god or whoever was listening might possibly just see fit to bestow upon you the monthly occurrence that most women deem as a curse. 

This was the reason the time between you in those woods was so limited. No feelings involved. Little to no social information exchanged. You liked the Daryl that made it priority to worship your body and fuck you senseless, his only words being filthy encouragement that would catapult you to and over the edge. Even when he accompanied you to the pharmacy, his presence wasn’t a negative contribution to the journey. You had actually felt oddly…comfortable. 

But the Daryl that you were currently trapped inside a beat up old pickup truck with had spoken all of seven sentences and you wanted to shoot him in the groin. You couldn’t imagine having a child with that man. Didn’t want to imagine it. If only your baser instincts hadn’t been so prominent over common sense when you saw him in the woods that third time. 

You could vomit now when you thought back on that specific meeting. You quite literally propositioned him while stalking toward him and simultaneously ripping off your shirt. He had looked so confused at first but caught up quickly. He was deep inside you while you straddled his lap less than five minutes later. Why hadn’t you at least had the brain power to tempt him just enough and send him to get condoms first? Nope. You jumped straight on his dick like a horny teenager. 

“For the love of fucks sake.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, ashamed at how recalling the carnal moments spent with the man across the bench seat from you had heat pooling at the apex of your thighs. You shifted, crossing your legs and pressing one down on the other, the tough inseam of your jeans rubbing just right over your clit to send a jolt of pleasure all the way down to your toes. You only barely stifled a moan. 

A quick glance found Daryl still watching the road, lighting up a cigarette. Yet another thing you didn’t know about him. You shifted your hips while casting quick, discrete glances. He was seemingly oblivious. Biting your bottom lip, you turned your face toward the window and continued the careful side to side of your hips, very slowly but very steadily working toward what would undoubtedly be a quick and not totally satisfying orgasm. Still, it was better than the alternatives of either sliding your hand into your panties or asking the man beside you to slide his hand into your panties. 

You noticed your breaths quickening and inhaled deeply through your nose to try and calm both that and your heartrate. The hot coil burning in your lower belly was tightening, pulses of pleasure bleeding out to culminate at the swollen bud that your jeans were stimulating. You were so close, almost there—

Daryl cleared his throat, flicking his smoke out the window and unintentionally bringing a sudden halt to any progress you had made toward release. You openly glared at him. 

“Wha’?” He huffed, sneering at your obvious resentment. 

“You’re an asshole.”

It was near dusk when the caravan finally pulled up to the CDC. There had been stops to siphon fuel, take bathroom breaks, and go over plans and strategies. You had remained inside the cab of the truck, not trusted enough to be privy on their plans. You couldn’t really fault them. Even if they had included you, nothing they had said could have prepared you for the devastation outside the government building. 

“We’re really going out there?” You asked, feeling nauseated at the thought of seeing the bodies up close. 

“Yep.” Daryl replied casually, already outside the truck. He was holding his crossbow as well as a shotgun and was looking at you expectantly. “C’mon. Get th’ lead out, woman.” 

Puffing out your cheeks in a forced exhale, you opened the truck door. The stench of death and rot was even worse when you stepped out onto the pavement. Flies and maggots were in abundance, feasting on the fallen littering the ground. You gagged behind your hand, ushered forward by a surprisingly gentle hand from the redneck. 

“Can’ stop here.”

When you caught up with the group, the one called Shane was directing everyone like a traffic cop, trying to keep fear and panic to a minimum. “All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let's go. Okay, keep moving. Stay together.”

Rick joined in, urging everyone forward while Jacqui and Shane tried to keep the group quiet. You were at the rear of the main cluster of people with Daryl following closely behind you. You could hear the commotion before you saw Shane pounding on the shutters that were keeping the entrance blocked. 

“Walkers!” Daryl called out, firing a shot that made you flinch. 

“Walkers?” You blurted before realizing exactly what he meant. “Oh fuck!” You had no weapon, absolutely no method of defending yourself. Before you could protest, Daryl had reached back with one arm and pushed you behind himself. You didn’t have time to think too hard on it before he was yelling. 

“Ya led us into a graveyard!” 

Your hands had fisted into the back of his shirt, subsequently allowing him to guide you where he needed you without sacrificing his focus. 

“He made a call!” Shane sounded from somewhere behind you. 

Daryl growled harshly, the sound vibrating your hands against his back. “It was the wrong damn call!” He shouted. The commotion continued, blame and orders being thrown about in shouts and pleas you ignored in favor of burying your face between Daryl’s shoulder blades. You had survived; lost your entire family and stayed alive only to die with a handful of strangers and a man you almost wished you had made more of an effort to get to know. Amidst the crying children, the screaming women, you could clearly hear and focus on Rick’s desperate declaration:

“You’re killing us! You’re killing us! You’re killing us!”

“Daryl.” You sobbed before you could stop yourself. 

Then, something unexpected but no less of a miracle. 

The shutters began to open, dousing you all in a most blessed light. 

Taglist:

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[hoodharlow]

Used to Be

AN: yes I delete this when it flopped 🤭

Requested? No

Warnings: elopment, angst, a mini me revelation, a proposal, and mentions of break ups. Overall mess 🤭

Word Count:

2016

“Until 2003, you needed blood tests to get married?” Urban exclaimed, reading out loud a brochure for getting married. 

“Yeah, you know how whites are. Always marrying their cousins.” Naya commented. She glanced over to Jack and Sydney. “You're sure you're not cousins right?”

“She was the only witness available?” Jack asked Sydney. 

“Yes,” Naya answered. “I'm also the only one who won't tell a soul. If your parents find out you two are getting hitched, you're both dead.”

“I think I saw a vending machine down the hall. Let's get snacks.” Urban motioned Naya to follow, leaving Jack and Sydney. 

Jack relaxed in his seat and reached for Sydney's hand. “Do you think we're making a huge mistake?” He asked her. 

“No, do you?” She asked back. 

“No.” Jack shook his head. “I love you so much, Syd. I've known since we were ten and you hit my head with the tetherball.”

“It was an accident but I'm glad that it made you come to your senses. Because I've loved you since you stole back my latest copy of The Series of Unfortunate Events from Miguel Casillas in fourth grade.” 

Jack chuckled and pulled her to his chest. 

Sydney hugged him tight, sighing contently. It wasn't how she imagined herself getting married when she was playing with Barbies growing up. But it was perfect. She had the man of her dreams at her side with their best friends. Sure they were barely eighteen and fresh out of high school but they loved each other and that was all that mattered. They didn't have much when they moved from Louisville to Atlanta other than their love, aspirations, and support for each other to keep them going. The rest could come later once Jack was settled in Atlanta. 

For now his parents think he's just visiting Sydney during her summer bridge program at Georgia Tech where she was going to study architecture like her late father. Jack didn't apply to any schools. It wasn't in the books for him. His dream was to be a rapper. He was pretty decent at it. With the connections he had back home that led him to Atlanta, it wouldn't be long for him to get signed. He knew a radio host back in Louisville that sent his work to Atlanta to a producer from home that worked with some huge artists he was a fan of. He had everything going for him. From being minutes away from marrying to the love of his life to working on his music. 

Jack and Sydney have been together since their sophomore year of high school. Though they've known each other for way longer than that. They went to the same elementary school and were always seated together because of their last names (Harlow and Harris). When her dad passed away from a car accident, he was at her side cheering her up when she was down. He was always someone she could count on. 

“When I get my first break I'm buying us a huge plot of land for you to design our home.” Jack said, twirling one of her curls with his index finger.  

“Can it be in Louisville? I don’t want the paparazzi up my butt when you're famous.” Sydney said, pretending to shield herself from paparazzi. 

“Where else would we raise our soccer team? Also the only person that's gonna be up your butt is me.” He huffed out his chest.

“If you're up my butt how are we gonna have kids?” She asked playfully. 

“Fine, I'll be up your butt on special occasions.” he gave in. 

“Okay,” she laughed. 

Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her temple. They talked amongst themselves until it was their turn to go up. A woman in a button-up and trousers walked out with a clip board along with a couple a few years older than Jack and Sydney. The groom was dressed in a formal marine uniform and the bride in a simple sundress. Under her dress was the outline of a small bump. 

The woman with the clipboard looked down and read outloud, “Harlow and Harris?”

“That's us.” Jack said, squeezing Sydney's hand. “Forever and always?”

A bright flash burned his eyes. Jack closed his eyes and blinked until he regained his eyesight. He was brought back to the present. To his engagement photoshoot. 

Jack’s knee began to lose sensation with how long he’d been on one knee. 92830 pictures later and they were finally finished with the shoot. He never thought he was going to spend almost a full day taking pictures of his engagement for some magazine spread. Hell, Jack wasn’t even sure he was going to remarry after his divorce with Sydney. But it was the next step for him and Mallory, his fiance. 

Mallory is the niece of one of the higher ups at Atlantic Records. Jack met her at a networking event a year after he signed to Generation Now. He never paid her much attention after that. But if they ran into each other he would say hi. It continued like that until the night his debut album came out. His team went all out and had a huge celebration. 

Jack had to hand his phone to Urban because he was tempted to call Sydney and show her that paid off in the end. He didn't, he wasn't that cruel. He just spent the night drowning his sorrows with tequila and champagne. The following morning he woke up with Mallory next to him. From there they've been inseparable (he couldn't get rid of her). He grew accustomed to her presence and liked being around her.  When she wasn't shoving her phone in his face for her content. When people found out about their relationship, Mallory banked on it and grew a following for her pottery and sculptures. Did people actually buy her artwork? No, but she had over two million followers and that was something for her. 

“Baby, do you want to see the pictures Gianni took?” Mallory asked him.

“It's fine. I'm sure they came out great.” Jack answered. 

He went to his dressing room where his friend and family were. They were there for the proposal but once Mallory started talking about outfit changes and the photographer she brought. 

“Hey,” he said, hugging his mom.

“Hi.” She said curtly. 

His mom wasn't the biggest fan of Mallory. Mainly because she was best friends with Sydney's mom, Miss Esther, and they still talked. They had a brief falling out when Jack and Sydney divorced but according to his dad, they became best of friends once again a few years ago and they would hang out a lot. Jack wouldn't know, he tried his best to never mention them or when they were over at his parent’ place for dinner he'd avoid visiting. But here and there he would ask his mom about them. Maggie made it obvious that she still hoped that he and Sydney would try again now that they're older but that was never going to happen. Especially with how Jack ended things with her. 

“Look mom, I know you're not Mal's biggest fan but we're getting married and I want you to try to be nice to her.” He said. 

“I've never been rude to her, Jack.” His mom said, sipping her flute of champagne. 

“I'm not saying you are or were. I just want you to be more accepting or at least pretend to be. She's going to be my wife.” Jack said frustrated. 

Maggie's ever present frown turned to a straight line, which was a grin in Jack's books. “I have to get going. I'm meeting Esther for something.” 

“Could you hold off telling her about this?” He gestured around them.

“Baby, you're at the bottom of the list of talking topics we have. Don't worry about it.” She smiled sweetly. 

She motioned to Jack's dad and they bid Jack goodbye. Jack went to Mallory who was busy going through the pictures with her friends. He sat with her and pulled her to his lap. She met his gaze and smiled. Jack smiled back. He looked over to where his parents were and felt a shiver go down his spine. He felt uneasy and couldn't figure out why. 

Jack's friends left not much after. They agreed to meet up again for the Louisville soccer game. Jack reserved a suite for them as a way to celebrate that he was engaged. Mallory's friends that flew in went back to the hotel and Mallory was meeting with them for a girls night. They had a few hours before that, so they decided to check out some houses. A new private neighborhood was hosting an open house. 

There were two rows of various gates and fences with no end. They passed four fences when Jack finally pulled up to a house. He parked on the side of the street next to other cars. He opened Mallory's door and helped her out. 

As they made their way to the house, a gate from the house across the house they were going to see opened. A black Mercedes pulled out and parked in front of the small mailbox. That didn't get Jack's attention. The house in the gate did. It looked exactly like the house Sydney would talk about designing for them. He let go of Mallory’s hand and went to get a closer look. 

“Jack, where are you going?” She called after him. 

He waved her off and crossed the street. Just as he approached the house, the gate closed. He looked over to the Mercedes but the windows were dark. He couldn't get a good look unless he shoved his face in the window. A little boy got out of the car followed by a guy several inches shorter than him. The little boy shoved a small key in the lock of the mailbox and grabbed a small box, leaving.

“It's here!” He held up the box triumphantly to the guy. 

“That's great, but we're running late. Your grans are waiting for us, mate.” The guy said in a New Yorker accent. Sensing Jack, he turned around. “Oh ‘llo? Are you here for the open house? If so it's across the street.” 

“I am, but I by chance saw your house and–”

“It's my cousin's house.” He said. 

“Oh, sorry,” Jack began. He cleared his throat. “Do you know who designed it for your cousin?”

“My grandma has pictures of you at her house.” The little boy said, also cutting off Jack.

“Oh thanks.” Jack said, a bit confused. 

“I wish we could chat, but we have to get going.” the guy said. 

He opened the backseat for the little boy. Jack noticed someone else was sitting in the passenger side. He couldn't see their face but he saw a head full of curls similar to the little boy’s. 

“Bye.” The little boy waved at Jack.

The guy nodded at Jack and got in the driver's seat. They sped off and the uneasy feeling he had earlier returned. His stomach churned, but Jack brushed it off. He crossed the street back to Mallory.

“What was that all about?” She asked.

“Don't worry about it, let's go see if this is our future home.” Jack said, placing his arm over her shoulders. 

He looked back once more at the house before going inside. 

*

Jack couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling and it got to the point that he was irritating people around him. He couldn't enjoy the game because he was so distracted. He felt some familiarity when he saw the little boy. He had the same hazel eyes as Sydney. He silently cursed himself. Sydney is the last person he should even be thinking about.

“Yo, is that mom?” Clay asked Jack in a quiet tone, bringing him back to the game.

“What are you talking about?” Jack frowned. 

“There.” His younger brother pointed to the bottom row of the suite across from them. 

“I can't see that far.” He said. 

“You came to a sporting event and sat yourself in the way back knowing you can't fucking see?” Clay shook his head.

He pulled out his phone and zoomed in to where he was pointed at. Lo and behold, it was their mom. Most importantly the little kid that Jack saw in the neighborhood was sitting on her lap and they were sharing a tray of nachos and a hotdog. A seat behind them was Esther, Sydney's mom, and Jorge, her step-dad. 

“Why is she sharing nachos with that kid? In my twenty-two, almost twenty-three years of life, mom has never bought me nachos.” Clay said in disbelief. 

“Those are Syd's parents.” Jack told him.

“Damn Miss Esther is still fineass-OW!” He rubbed the back of his neck where Jack smacked him. 

“That's my mother-in-law, don't be weird.” 

“Ex mother-in-law.” Clay corrected him. 

Jack held up his finger to tell him to be quiet. He pulled out his phone and called his mom. They looked through Clay's phone camera as their mom looked at her phone then hung up. A message came through seconds later that her hands were full and that she'd call him later.

“I bet her hands are full, sharing nachos with some kid and not her son.” Clay mumbled.

He ignored Clay as he went on about how he used to use his birthday money at the concessions stand because their mom never bought him nachos. Jack snapped a picture of their mom and the little boy, sending it to his dad. His dad saw it. The three dots appeared then disappeared. From Clay's phone he saw his mom look at her phone then scan the stadium. Her eyes landed on her sons. She pushed off the little kid and told Esther something before getting up.

“Come with me.” Jack said, pulling Clay from his seat.

“Where y'all going?” Urban asked them. 

“We'll be right back.” Jack said.

They left their seats and walked to the seats their mom was sitting at. They found her pacing and texting frantically.

“Mom, what–”

“Why are you eating nachos with some kid?” Clay beat him to the punch.

“What are y'all doing here?” She asked them, annoyed. 

“What are we doing here? What are you doing here? And with Syd's family?” Jack asked her.

“It's complicated. We'll talk at home. Why don't you go back to your seats.” Maggie said.

“Mom, what's going on?” he asked her. 

“Maggie, what's going on? My mom was–” a voice Jack never thought he'd hear again. 

“Syd?” He said softly.

“Oh my god! You're Jack Harlow!” A girl, a few years younger than Sydney, squealed.

It took Jack a second but it was Sydney's younger sister. She was eight years younger than them. He didn't recognize her. The last time he saw her was right before he and Sydney eloped. 

“Nina, let's go inside.” The guy from the house said, pulling her away.

“Holy shit, Sydney. It's been forever.” Clay said, pulling her into a hug.

“Hey.” She smiled at Clay. 

Sydney took a step back and stood behind Maggie. The door abruptly opened. 

“Mommy, where are you?” the little boy said. He looked at Jack then to Maggie, pointing. “Gramma, that's the guy in the pictures in your house.” 

Clay threw his arms in the air. “What am I, chopped liver?”

*

Sydney tapped her pen against her desk. She was stressed out of her mind ever since she saw Jack at the soccer game. After three years of living in Louisville, she finally ran into him. Part of her was proud of herself that she was able to avoid him for that long. The other didn't know how to feel. She was scared out of her mind though. 

She never planned to tell him that he had a son, Jaden. She didn't even plan to tell his parents, but they found out a month after she moved in when she was dropping him off at her parents. Sydney had just graduated from Georgia Tech and was working at her grandparents’ (her late dad's parents) architect firm. She begged Jack's parents not to tell him. After how things ended she wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't like she needed him. She made good money working with her grandparents and she had her own trust fund. Jack's parents help around but she never took any financial gifts from them. She doesn't even know what she's going to do know that Jack knew.

When Jaden popped up at the game she left. She had her bag with her so just scooped up her son and bolted out of the stadium. Since then she's been on high alert, looking over her shoulder in case Jack popped up. He already knew where she lived.

The phone on her desk rang.

Sydney pressed the answer button. “Yes?” 

“Miss Hart, your nine am is here.” the firm's receptionist said. 

“I don't have a nine am.” she said into the speaker. “Hello? Clara?” 

Seconds later there was a knock on her office door. Sydney got up and opened the door. Behind Clara was Jack. 

“And here's miss Hart's office.” the receptionist gestured to Sydney. She turned to Jack, fully taking him in. “Would you like anything to drink? We have still water, sparkling water, soft drinks, juice, coffee and tea as well as danishes, croissants, doughnuts, and muffins.” 

“I'll take your hottest tea.” Jack smiled sweetly at the sixty-something receptionist. 

“Sounds good. If you'll excuse me.” Clara said, leaving them alone.

“How the fuck did you find me?” Sydney asked him, closing the door behind him. 

Jack took a seat on the dark purple couch. He picked up a picture frame of her with her dad's parents from her college graduation. In her arms was their son. He couldn't be more than a year and a half. 

He turned the frame to her. “You're not that hard to find. Your grandparents own the biggest architecture firm in all of Jefferson County right here in Louisville. I thought it would've been a more neutral place than showing up at your house.” 

“Jack, this is my place of work.” 

“I want to meet my son.” He said, dismissing her previous comment.

“He's not your son. He's my son.” Sydney sneered. 

“You had no right keeping him from me, Syd.” he snapped at her. 

“You don't get to be upset, Jack. You don't get to waltz into my job and demand shit from me.” She jabbed her finger at him. “You wanted the divorce. You wanted an out because I was holding you back. But ironically enough you were too much of a coward to tell me. You had to get your little fountain entourage to do it for you.” 

“Syd, I don't want to but I will take you to court.” Jack warned. 

“I'm sure your fiancé would love to read about your ex wife next to her unsold engagement announcement cover for People magazine. Congrats by the way.” She smiled sweetly. 

It hadn't even been a week since they took their engagement pictures when every newsstand and grocery store stand were filled with them. Jack was annoyed because he wanted to wait a few weeks to announce it. Mallory and Neelam rushed it to the stands. 

He reached for the stack of sticky notes and pen. He scribbled something on the baby pink post-it then got up. 

“You have three days to decide if you let me meet him or I'll get my lawyers involved.” He handed her the sticky note. “Here's my number. I'll be waiting for your call.” 

His phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his cargo pants. Sydney saw ‘Neelam’ on the caller ID and rolled her eyes. She and Neelam never saw eye to eye. Most of the animosity came from the fact that Sydney was married to Jack. When they finally called it quits, Neelam was the most excited to see it happen. Her Cheshire cat grin had as Sydney signed every NDA and contact would be forever imprinted in Sydney's mind. 

“Your fucking job was to keep tabs on that shit… How could you miss the most important document? Send it fast so we can get it resolved.” He hung up without another word. Jack rubbed his temples. He looked at Sydney and sighed. “Turns out we're not divorced.” 

 

#jack harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #Jack harlow one shot

[kim-they-them]

I want to talk about how interconnected the genocide of the Palestinian people and the ongoing covid pandemic are.

Just as the 1918 flu pandemic desensitized the world to mass death and disability leading into WWII, the ongoing covid pandemic has also desensitized the world today leading into the genocide of Palestinian people.

The genocide of the Palestinian people is a mass disabling event, and it is compounded by imposed starvation and the mass spread of diseases, including covid. Israel is actively depriving Palestinians of food, clean water, and covid vaccines through occupation and blockade.

Just as Israel imposes apartheid on Palestinians, the US imposes medical apartheid on all marginalized groups of people. Indigenous and Black communities are especially disproportionately affected by covid.

Also taking place in majority Black communities are the establishment of cop cities. Atlanta, GA and Baltimore, MD are just two examples of the nation-wide cop city role out. These cop cities will be used for further militarization of US police officers and an intensification of the Deadly Exchange. The Deadly Exchange is a training and exchange program between the IOF and US police officers. This will only amplify discriminatory and apartheid practices already existing in US policing.

Atlanta, GA just narrowly escaped a face covering and mask ban, as the state of Georgia is criminalizing protests against the Atlanta Cop City. Georgia is prosecuting cop city protestors with RICO charges right now.

In Washington DC, another majority Black community, fascist “anti-crime” bills are being rammed through by Mayor Bowser. The Secure DC Omnibus Amendment Act was just advanced by the DC City Council. While the bill contains a large list of horrifying measures, I want to point out the ban of face coverings, which does extend to masks and respirators.

With the unwinding of all federal and state covid policies and prevention measures, we have very few tools left to protect ourselves as individuals from repeated covid infections. Criminalization of masks and respirators will make Black, disabled, and marginalized DC residents even more at risk of disability or death from covid.

It is so important that we understand how the ongoing covid pandemic and genocide of the Palestinian people are connected. As a community we must take both of these mass disability and death events seriously. Please wear a high quality mask (a KN-95 or N-95), and check out your local mask bloc for access to masks and covid tests to incorporate into your praxis and activism for Palestine, the DRC, Sudan, Tigray, and so on.

#long covid #covid19 #covid 19 #covid #palestine #free gaza #disability #dr congo #keep eyes on sudan #free tigray #covid isn't over

[acknowledge-reigns]

Somebody truly had the nerve to say Roman has never had to deal with or wrestle with injuries/set backs in his career and that he "could never power through like C*dy did with his torn pec". First of all, comparing how these two athletes deal with injuries is big fucking weird but since we're going there and I take my role of #1 Joe Anoa'i defender to heart what I'm not about to do is let y'all set up here on this internet and make it seem as if my Tribal Chief ain't ever fought through shit because this man is a WARRIOR, do you hear me???

(HE'S A TWO TIME LEUKEMIA SURVIVOR SINCE Y'ALL MOTHERFUCKERS LIKE TO FORGET HE KICKED CANCER'S ASS TOO.) Generally speaking, not just that situation but in many others in Joe's life, some of your faves would have folded. (especially those two yt men that run from company to company when they don't get their way) . Really this ain't shade to C*dy, I give him his props for powering through injuries and shit too. Most of these superstars have. And saying some of them would probably fold (hell, I would. Most of us would.) Isn't saying they're weak. I'm saying Roman is a badass on a different level and you can argue with your momma or with the wall on that one, not me.

List of injuries/illnesses known to us throughout Roman's career -

Back + Hip injury 2023 (Sumerslam, v Jey Uso.)

Ruptured Ear Drum 2022 (Survivor Series, v Kevin Owens who surprised him with a spot that was not planned and resulted in the injury. There however is no bad blood between the two.)

Had COVID 2022 (https://www.espn.com/wwe/story/_/id/32974962/roman-reigns-wwe-biggest-star-tests-positive-covid-19-scratched-atlanta-event)

Lingering affects from COVID 2022 (due to being immunocompromised https://www.fightful.com/wrestling/roman-reigns-discusses-his-covid-experience-says-he-still-feels-chest-tightness)

Shoulder/Arm injury 2022 (Wrestlemania 38, v Brock Lesnar)

Reveals Leukemia treatment side effects (including Nausea and arthritis in arms and legs, mentioned in 2019 and 2020 interviews. Ex. https://www.leukaemiacare.org.uk/support-and-information/latest-from-leukaemia-care/inspirational-stories/roman-reigns-wwe-cml-and-me/#:~:text=Previously%2C%20Reigns%20revealed%20to%20the,in%20terms%20of%20being%20sick.)

Knee Injury 2019 (Hell in a cell tornado tag with Daniel Bryan, v Erick Rowan and Luke Harper.)

Second battle with Leukemia 2018

Eye injury, required stitches 2018 (after 6 man tag match on RAW https://www.wrestlingnewsworld.com/wwe/roman-reigns-gets-stitches-raw)

Shoulder injury + Cracked ribs 2017 ( RAW, v Braun Strowman)

Shattered nose + Surgery 2016 ( v Triple H. See attached article https://www.wwe.com/shows/raw/2016-02-22/article/reigns-surgery)

Needed stitches May 2016 (live show, see photos https://www.wwe.com/worldwide/gallery/roman-reigns-receives-stitches-in-melbourne-australia-photos#fid-40042095)

Head Injury that required staples 2014 (https://youtu.be/OYMce1GDiDc?si=KtbVybtoQVr7FKDL)

Emergency surgery for Hernia 2014 (which he wrestled for some time while dealing with, see WWE.com article herehttps://www.wwe.com/shows/nightofchampions/2014/roman-reigns-breaking-news)

This list does not include FCW injuries, football injuries or his 2007 leukemia diagnosis durring which he was unhoused with a child on the way. And these are just the instances we know of!

Say what you will about Roman in kayfabe but do not minimize the struggles Joe has been through or his resilience. And if you're a Roman "fan" buying into the the rhetoric that he hasn't faced any adversity then as my dear friend @love-islike-abomb says, Please "Go whistle in the woods". IYKYK.

Oh and while we all here...

Acknowledge him, Bitches ☝🏾☝🏾☝🏾☝🏾.

#i will defend joe anoa'i with my life #no shade tho to most of c*dy nation #but be so fuckin for real #roman reigns #the tribal chief #wwe roman reigns #head of the table #the head of the table #the only one #joe anoa'i #the bloodline

[freifraufischer]

Nellie Kim judging at the 1995 Atlanta Olympic Test Event pondering all the skills she will name after herself when she discovers how NBC captioned her.

#gymnastics #nellie kim

[aggravateddurian]

Clara Martinez: Owner of a Lonely Heart

Introducing Clara Martinez, a Night City native, childhood friend of Valerie, and occasional pain in Barghest's ass.

"Truly impressive. I fuck with Hansen's shipments, disrupt his convoys, steal shit from under his nose, and his dogs just walk past none the wiser. I drive in and out that gate every other day, and they're just standin' there, cocks limp in hand. Makes you wonder whether or not these gonks'd know if someone crashed a plane in their backyard."

Clara Martinez

FIA Operations Officer

Date of Birth: June 16, 2053 (age 24) Place of Birth: Rancho Coronado, Night City Allegiance: NUSA Height: 1.72m

Clara Martinez grew up in Santo Domingo, the daughter of a former NUS Marine, Staff Sergeant Carlos Martinez, and his wife Maria, a public servant who worked for the city. From a young age, Clara began to hang around with Valerie Ocampo-Gonzalez. From P to 12th Grade, Val and Clara were in the same class, and went to the same schools, and they were very close.

Surprisingly, given Val's very forward nature, it was Clara that made the first move, asking her out in 8th Grade. From that point, until 2071, when Val took a gig in Atlanta and left Night City for six years, the pair were inseparable. This was such the case that both Val's and Clara's parents were fully expecting the couple to marry after high school, and in the words of Val's father, Zanjoe, "I had a suit specially set aside."

Val's decision to move to Atlanta affected Clara. She never started dating after Val left, whereas Val, believing that Clara's decision not to follow her to Atlanta was the final statement on their relationship, began dating again, eventually meeting Trey Marshall in mid-2072. Clara thought of a couple of ways that the pair might reunify, and among the most gonk ideas she had was to join the NUS Government.

Rather than being whisked away to Atlanta as she was hoping, she instead was recruited into the FIA, owing to her school grades and aptitude tests, and joined a network of officers operating in NC under the auspices of a senior officer known as 'Nexus.' Clara's primary task was to ensure that NUS officials and officers were not visiting Night City to sell NUS secrets or technology to corps or rival powers, as well as to keep an eye on the situation in Dogtown, and ensure that arms and financial support to Kurt Hansen were minimised as much as possible.

It should be important to note that Val and Clara never officially broke up, and Clara has been hoping that maybe Val will come back and they'll finally get married. A girl can dream, I guess...

2077 - Reunion and Fallout

In 2077, Val returned to Night City. While Clara was aware of this, as Val had connections to Militech at the time, and the FIA was monitoring the actions of two important Militech officers: Dorian Bautista and Aaron Donoghue, Clara's priority was instead to intercept and deny shipments of arms and resources to Dogtown, a job that had limited success, owing to Hansen's ingenuity.

In May 2077, mere days before the shocking events that begun V's journey in Dogtown, Trey Marshall was kidnapped by a scav group that originated in Dogtown, and the attack appeared to be a targeted hit, rather than an opportunistic one. Less than an hour after Clara was made aware of the scavs' attack, Clara immediately suspected that someone was holding Trey inside Dogtown.

She contacted Val as soon as she could...

and the rest of the story will be revealed in Val Goes to Dogtown. Parts of which can be seen in my ongoing series of Val doing stuff in Dogtown.

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 oc #cp2077 #cp2077 oc #new oc #oc: clara martinez

[aggold15hi01]

My personal thoughts on the micromanagement treatment between Logan & Williams

⚠️ Disclaimer: This post is a very long post.

⚠️ Trigger warning: Mentions of "C-19" and mentions of micromanagement with Dallas Wings on former head coach Vicky Johnson plus ex Dallas Wings Player Allisha Gray plus Williams Racing Team on current Team principle James Vowles and Logan Sargeant in addition to how author did felt as if she did hit her lowest point of her very own life (A.k.a Rock bottom for real) due to countless events which did happened in her in her very own real life.

The way the Williams Racing Team treated Logan Sargeant does reminds me dejectedly and traumatically does reminds me of how Allisha had been treated by a former head coach of the Dallas Wings Vicky Johnson had treated Allisha so badly by having to truthfully bad-mouthed her and putting the blame on Allisha for a poor performance on the game of Las Vegas Aces vs Dallas Wings back in June 2021 on a five game road trip; it's like they think Allisha was responsible for the loss because of how she had been feeling drained from the 3x3 Basketball qualification event at Austria where she was playing with the 3x3 USA Team alongside Kelsey Plum; Stefanie Dolson and *Katie Lou Samuelson (*Whom she had contributed her part with the team on the qualification event way before sitting on the Tokyo Olympics due to "tested +" for C-19 so Jackie Young who is a team mate of Kelsey Plum with the Las Vegas Aces had to truly take place of KLS) and was also named as a "MVP" of the 3x3 USA Basketball Team during her time with the USA 3x3 Basketball at the Qualifying event in Europe and then meanwhile, Vicky Johnson had placed the blame on Allisha for the poor performance she had placed her during the time of the LV Aces vs the Dallas Wings Team back in June 2021 on the 5 Game Road Trip and already this does reminds me of how the Williams Racing Team unfortunately treated Logan in such a bad manner which does really makes my heart felt sad for him--especially with all of the comments which are deeply hurtful, nasty and downright insulting towards Logan and already do we need anymore insults for that?? No, I don't think we needed it anymore.

Plus also sorry if I did have to write this post because these days I did felt as if I am feeling as if I am at my lowest point these days as honestly, it does saddens my heart to hear what Logan had to truthfully went through in his very own life not just only as a professional F1 Driver but also both as a person and as a human being as well.

Anyway, in other words; thank you for reading this long and lengthy post about the rant that I did truthfully have to truthfully say about what Logan had to went through with the Williams Racing Team just the same as how Allisha went through with the Dallas Wings Team and a former head coach on Vicky Johnson back in 2021 and 2022 way before the changes on how Allisha got a request to be traded to her home team of the Atlanta Dream. (Plus yes, I am still in a full-on level of denial of how Allisha got traded away to a team like the Atlanta Dream and yet Dallas tried to rebuild themselves by fulfilling the void with Maddy Siergrist; Ashley Joens [Whom IDK what had happened to her after they waived her off from the Wings Team]: and so many draft picks whom there is no way they can fulfill the void of Allisha Gray, Kayla Thornton or Marina Mabrey as this does makes the team looks way too different more so than how they are with players like Lish, Kayla: Marina; the seldom utilized Chelsea; Jasmine, Bella and also the waived off Jazz Bond; Destinee Walker and Unique Thompson. Sheesh.

Also, sorry if the post is truthfully long and rant(y) ever since I got so much to say to be honest at this point; everyone.

Anyway; let's all be kind and be respectful to each other and thank you again, for reading this post.

#my own post #my own words #my own writing #my writing #my own thoughts #personal #text #text post #allisha gray #logan sargeant #TW Micromanagement #tw bullying

[frankensteinshimbo]

Nostalgia

A vampire tries being accountable for his historical exploits to the Childe he made during the 1860s. The recount teaches Frederick that even though he's also historical, he has never had any particular attachment to or any nostalgia for his own life.

The worst couple returns, but I have no particular warnings to throw on this.

"You used to talk at length about the French Revolutionaries during my adolescence. Do you remember?"

Stéphane glanced past the rim of his blocky sunglasses at Frederick. He had just floated back in, bringing the dry smell of California air with him. Unlike the small round sunglasses of the 1800s aristocracy, these glasses covered the Frenchman's eyes so thoroughly Frederick couldn't discern the nuance of Stéphane's expressions, but the slightest tweak of his lips suggested humor.

The blond threw himself into an armchair at an angle that half-spilled him out of it. He was still dressed from his outing in the deliciously low clothing of this young century. The button down shirt was more artistic than anything Frederick would've seen in Atlanta, (a Queen's Blue canvas strewn with pale lemons), but it was the brown denim cut off at Stéphane's thighs that had a hard time not leading his eyes down the limber muscles of the other man's legs.

Luckily for Frederick's modesty, Stéphane had been distracted by Frederick's question and was contemplating a wall, mouth in hand.

"Huh. Yeah, I do," he replied. "Robespierre, Billaud Varenne..."

"Collot d'Herbois," Frederick reminded him tidily.

"Collot d'Herbois! That is an old name!"

Stéphane pushed the sunglasses up into his hair.

"Couthon. So many men that have been added to the archives of history."

Frederick's pursed his lips primly at the admission. It hollowed his cheeks, casting his normally soft face in severe light. He slid forward on his seat to perch at the lip. From there, it was easy to catch Stéphane's flitting blue eyes and bore his dark ones into that chink.

"How old are you, Stéphane?"

Quick as a wolf, Stéphane quirked his lips at the rabbit's inquiry.

"How old are you, Junior?"

Some integral machine inside of Frederick stopped running, leaving only dead air inside of his mind.

Stéphane's grin widened as he took in the discord he'd sown.

"Or is your resurrected body exempt from a test mine has to be held to? Does Persephone care for Hades age? Does any other immortal? Age is a way of accounting for finite time. What's the point when your days are endless?"

"It matters because my hourglass had a measured amount of sand when I met you."

Stéphane gave Frederick an airy shrug.

"I guess it did," Stéphane sighed as he shook his waterfall of hair over his shoulders. "You're entitled to that curiosity as a fledgling in this life, but I'd like you to start looking past mortal constructs."

He flicked a last wisp of blond silk from his face.

"You know? Adjust."

This sounded so rational that Frederick resented it with the kind of frustration that knew no reason. The feeling burned through the bottom of his stomach so suddenly, that it was distinct from the days - weeks perhaps - of calm apathy. Even to his own dissatisfaction responding to it was distasteful, but he found himself insisting petulantly:

"But you were alive during the Revolution?"

Stéphane had good humor enough to laugh at the Childe.

"For a couple of them yes. I fought the French one. Is that clear enough?"

He spoke with the unrelenting patience Frederick had remembered. It stood in such stark contrast to the senseless angry death he'd been treated to at Stéphane's hands that ache introduced itself to the burn, leaving distress the concoction both adverse memories created.

"And then after that?"

Frederick forced himself to be understanding. The French Revolution was still fresh on the tongue during the Antebellum. An event of political upheaval that his mother had thrown around as a type of politics that was on the make. She had still dressed like "the Republican ladies in Paris," long into the depths of Southern Rebellion.

"I Goldrushed; you know that."

Frederick's brow wrinkled. He did remember catching edges of the story, hiding at the frays of smoking room conversations he hadn't been invited to to listen to the French dandy's strange wonderful adventures.

"In eighteen-fifty-nine," he said more than asked.

"Euh--"

Stéphane's eyes fluttered.

"Forty-nine, actually," he corrected. "But-- ah! That's right!" he exclaimed softly. "Most people knew me as twenty-five then, so I edited some of the details. I came to California a year after a friend did. An Englishman, actually. He was kindred to you and me."

Stéphane gestured to the gap between him and Frederick. Us, the small motion conveyed with devastating clarity. Us.

"He had ideas regarding the Mexican-American conflicts that cropped up with the settlers. He was something of a career revolutionary, and California was his next soapbox after the Republic had been settled."

Stéphane tilted his head to gauge how well Frederick was stomaching that particular truth.

Frederick was struggling. He had never been able to identify clear emotions since he'd been a teenager and realized that most people weren't being Romantic when they talked about being swayed by their passions. But he did have sensations that manipulated his nerves and made him prone to blunt outbursts. Oral-aggressive and anal-retentive the doctors had told his mother. That building concoction inside of his low stomach had foamed up into his throat, but there he sat, impressively stoic.

"And then?"

Stéphane adopted a crooked smile.

"I spent a couple years as a volunteer in the Mexican-American war and watching the Presidio grow into San Francisco. The railroads completed, connecting the desert washes to the plains and to lamppost cities. New York. Boston. New Orleans. People all came West, not for fortune or fight but to live life. And I thought what the fuck am I doing here?"

"And then?"

"And then the Civil War," Stéphane laughed and then scooted forward himself.

His eyes locked with Frederick's, knees almost touching.

"And then World War One after that. I became a student of Futurism and longed to go back to Paris, but I'd had you by then, so I stayed by your graveside, hoping for a kinder world to bring you back into. Then the Second World War, then the Cold War. Another revolution of technology, the Information Age. But Life isn't a series of 'and thens.' They're moments I cherish."

Stéphane extended his hand to the old Baptist preacher, offering a new millennium perched on Frederick's knee.

"And the present. Always the present. Today, then tomorrows I want you to see with me after that."

Frederick stared down at the open palm in silence.

"I was your disciple once," he began in a cold dead voice. "I entreated all of your beliefs, adopted them as my own, but then I found grievous flaw with them. I left you."

"And what did you find in your holy Sabbatical, Father?"

Frederick's lips swinged again.

"I'm not a Catholic," he said with purposeful pedantry through a tight frown.

But it was a (what he considered anyway) fundamental truth. Unlike most of the clergy, Frederick had considered his faith worldly over ascendant. He didn't often speak in scripture and, like most Protestant reformers, resented piety for piety's sake. His sermons were plain; his faith was measured by observable proofs when God remained, Himself, unobservable.

"In truth, it wasn' the world of dreams we used to talk about, but it helped me learn my own arrogance, an' I taught myself the humility of what it meant to be colored an' free, while my parishioners were enslaved. I have no special memories of that time; it was also a day after another, just prayin', but I was a real every day comfort for those folks in an unsure time."

Stéphane rolled his eyes, but he didn't withdraw.

"It always surprises me how many people are content to bury themselves in obscurity, but I couldn't let one of them be you, Junior. I don't believe for a second that religion was your calling; I think it was an excuse to bow out of the world."

His hand rolled over to grab Frederick's cuff and held on. It took every ounce of willpower for Frederick not to pull back

"You were too smart, too full of ideals, too many stars in my empty sky. There was no point in my eternity if you weren't here for it."

For the first time, the glowing vision in front of him sounded like he was pleading for something. He sunk from the armchair to kneel in front of Frederick. Frederick's eyes widened. Stéphane's grip on Frederick's arm, even through the thick wool of the coat, started to hurt.

"I'm sorry that the night of your Embrace was violent, but I accepted that you left once--"

Frederick could see himself reflected in Stéphane's light eyes, startled and just a little bit beautiful in his own surprise. More beautiful than he had ever been in many mirrors when he'd been alive.

"--I couldn't let you fade into obscurity again, knowing you'd go the way of every bright light I'd once called friend."

The pressure in his arm, the ardent desperation in Stéphane's eyes, the white European beauty he'd always envied laid at his feet. The world weighing his shoulders down lifted as he gazed at this perfect tragedy concocted for his ego. And... he couldn't fight it.

He wasn't exactly sure when his ex had gotten back into his arms, whose initiation it was, but his lips were joined all the same. He stilled, feeling it happen through different points of contact on his body, through his clothes, the shift of Stéphane's mouth on his own.

It seemed like a gothic heroine's decision to push away or to kiss back with resolve, but when that penultimate moment came, all he could think of was the place he'd grown up, his church, and the War that had never quite ended in his mind, the hidden burden of being an abolitionist in the South, and how helpless all of that conflict had made a body feel.

God, as ever, remained silent and unobservable.

#ockiss23 #San Francisco Nights #vampire #vampirism #gothic #Writeblr #creative writing #TTRPG #World of Darkness #toreador #Vampire: The Masquerade #vtm #short story #my works #by quinn

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

          Jamison Black, a 28 year old son of Brigid.           He is a maintenance worker at Galaxy Games.

FC NAME/GROUP: Mackenyu CHARACTER NAME: Jamison Black AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: November 16, 1995 ; 28 PLACE OF BIRTH: Atlanta, Georgia OCCUPATION: Maintenance Worker at Galaxy Games HEIGHT: 176 cm DEFINING FEATURES: Generally unruly hair with a constant smile. Missing his left arm due to a car accident. He wears a prosthetic that he has enhanced for various reasons, both practical and humorous. He has several different prosthetics, some that look like a normal arm to a more metal design. Typically, the male has small smudges of grease on his arms or nose from his mechanical work.

PERSONALITY: Jamison is highly intelligent when it comes to book smarts, having attended the best schools and being skilled in complex subjects. However, his brains are hidden with a barrage of silly jokes, aggravating puns, and the inability to take anything too serious. He spends a lot of his time playing video games and working on his wild range of gizmos that he thinks up. Off the bat, he is very outgoing, trying to pull a smile on anyone’s face even if he looks like a fool. Jamison comes off as the big, silly brother, just as protective as he is playful. Between that silly playfulness and his dumb attempts to cheer others up, he prides himself in being the best friend anyone could ask for.

HISTORY: Placed into the hands of a rather shocked father, Jamison’s dad was months into a new and healthy relationship when the child became his burden. However, his father did not hesitate in tending to his son, and his girlfriend took the reins of motherhood without being asked. The combination of the busy computer programmer and the overly sweet pre-school teacher provided Jamison the best life imaginable. It would not take long for the two to marry, and Jamison would be adopted by the wonderful woman.

As he grew, his adopted mother worked hard to start teaching him at a young age, and he excelled in school. Whether through his mother’s tutelage, his father’s early introduction of tech, or his own smarts, Jamison blew to the top of his class, and his test scores drew great praise from his teachers. The young male found himself deeply in love with science, finally settling on pursuing a dual major in software and materials engineering. So, when he was offered a full ride scholarship to MIT pursue a doctoral program in mechanical engineering, his mother sent him off with the happiest of wishes. At MIT, he found a group of friends that helped further his interests in building his own computers and other forms of technology. In the pursuit of a cute girl, that he would ultimately fail in trying to win’s heart, he rose a bit too quickly to a black belt in mixed martial arts.

Once he finished his degree, Jamison ended up taking a developer job at a growing video game company, simply out of interest and passion. Between work and maintaining some of his social circle from college, the demigod found comfort in his life. It was simple, but it allowed him to enjoy everything he loved. However, Jamison will always remember how quick life is willing to steal that carefully crafted happiness. On a trip down to go to the beach, he and parents found themselves left in a mangled car surrounded by shatters of glass, the reeking stench of gas, and a sea of red. By a miracle, or likely the enhancements the genius man had crafted to his beloved car, his family survived, but it was at the expense of the demigod. His only memory of the event was the sound of his mother’s scream and the sound of sirens.

When he finally awoke in the hospital, Jamison’s whole world had changed. It would take days for him to finally reunite with his family. The shock lasted for many days until he saw his parents again. Even as he laid in the bed in pain, he could only joke with his parents. “It is merely a flesh wound” leaves his lips so many times to where it became a banned phrase in the home. The journey to recovery was tough, though he put on a brave face throughout the ordeal. They were alive. And while he may have been missing an arm, that was worth their lives. 

The quick-witted demigod would quickly become interested in the technology of prosthetics. Receiving his first arm,  he used it as a foundation to make much grander alterations to the arm. Once he grew used to his new life, he returned to parts of his old life that he could, though he hid behind his video games and his love for painting. Jamison’s parents found, in an old collection of their items, a note attached that Jamison once delivered, and in it, an island named Mount Phoenix was referenced. With a new life and different challenges, Jamison decided he should try a new life with people like him. 

PANTHEON: Celtic CHILD OF: Brigid POWERS: 

Metal working: Jamison has a natural prowess at metal working, especially talented in welding and blacksmithing. Fighting: Talented in martial arts, the demigod picked up a natural ability to learn and handle fights, though he does not try to use his fighting aptitude due to a new unfair advantage of his arm. 

Medicinal Arts: Jamison has an innate knowledge of medicine treatment, able to apply a natural understanding to minor illnesses and injuries. 

Inspiration: Thanks to his mother, the demigod is naturally creative, having strong natural abilities in art. And, when knowledgeable about something, the male is rather well-spoken.

STRENGTHS: Lovable, Caring, and Fun WEAKNESSES: Easily distracted, Homebody, Unserious

#kpop rp #krp #mackenyu maeda #mackenyu #mp; welcome

[b1rdcatchers]

currently obsessed with olympic pictograms so i'm rating them

simplified images of different sporting events/locations helped athletes and tourists navigate the country even if they didn't speak the language, resulting in a win for accessibility and graphic design everywhere. below are a few notable sets.

^1. London, 1948: 5/10. aggressively old-timey, but i like the figure drawings

^2. Mexico City, 1968: 10/10 love the color choice, love the waves, love the weightlifing

^3. Grenoble (winter), 1968: 9/10 a mild headache is worth it for the slay

^4. Munich, 1972: 4/10 not my favorite but set the precedent for future pictograms. the group shots are fun

^5. Moscow, 1980: 6/10 munich plus wiggles :)

^6. Los Angeles, 1984: 4/10 they look like crash test dummies but points for good posture

^7. Sarajevo (winter), 1984: 9/10 the additional lines give dynamism but don't distract from the central figures!!

^8. Barcelona, 1992: 7/10 i like the calligraphic influence

^9. Lillehammer (winter), 1994: 10000000/10 absolutely perfect little guys. actually it's one guy and he does all the sports

look at this shit it's delightful why did they keep changing pictograms after this when they obviously struck gold

^10. Atlanta, 1996: 3/10 boring but points for being caked up

^11. Nagano (winter), 1998: 6/10 interesting paint-like strokes, deduction for luge which is actually a seeker of hermaeus mora come to kill me

^12. Sydney, 2000: 10/10 theyve all got little boomerangs :')

^13. Salt Lake City (winter), 2002: 5/10 based off cattle branding icons apparently? not my favorite but i have to respect the new direction

^14. Athens, 2004: 9/10 horrible cropping as to exclude their horrendous mascot but i love love LOVE when they take inspiration from the cultural history of a location!! in this case, cycladic figurines (pictured below)

^15. Turin (winter), 2006: 10/10 no notes i love it

^16. Beijing, 2008: 10/10 historical reference goes HARD

pictured: seal script, a predecessor to modern chinese lettering. you may recognize it from its use in avatar: the last airbender!

^17. Sochi (winter), 2014: 12/10 i love him he's just a fella. like that's my guy there he goes

^18. Beijing (winter), 2022: 8/10 i do like the calligraphic strokes but not as much as previous examples

HONORABLE MENTIONS

^equestrian events and kayaking at rio, 2016

^cycling at berlin, 1936 (all others were superimposed over the circle while this one fully incorporates it)

^biathlon at vancouver (winter), 2010: so fucking badass it's like a cartoon villain

Thank you for indulging my autism event :)

Links: Summer, Winter

#olympics #summer olympics #winter olympics #pictogram #graphic design #whee

[sounwise]

Another standout feature of [the Beatles’ 1965 visit to Atlanta] was the quality of sound achieved by sound engineers there. […] Claims of superior sound quality had been made at many venues, and just as many had fallen short of the expectations they raised. Like many of the fans, I was still waiting for truly great sound. […] When Cannibal and the Headhunters, one of the opening acts, came onstage, listeners got the first hint that this situation was something special. The sound was loud but clear. I wanted to report the good news to the band. In this town, the Beatles spent a lot of time in their dressing room, since there was no overnight hotel in Atlanta. I arrived at the dressing room an hour before showtime and found John Lennon spitting into a garbage can. Someone had sent a food delivery to the boys to help them pass the time. In it was some plum juice, which John had tasted. It didn’t make the cut. Once he had recovered from his taste test, I let him know that the sound seemed perfect. "Heard that before," he said. I returned to my seat in the dugout. When John and the others took the stage in the stadium’s infield, the first song, "Twist and Shout," which contained perhaps the highest pitches of the concert, was a bit distorted. But by the second song, "She’s a Woman," attentive listeners knew that we were witnessing a musical miracle in Atlanta. We were hearing stereo before the age of stereo, plus precision and clarity that made the concert a joy to listen to. The music overwhelmed the crowd noise, and that in turn brought joy to the audience of thirty thousand […] That night in Atlanta, this everlasting joy was shared by the Beatles and press chief Tony Barrow, who remembered the concert as a pivotal event: KANE: You liked the sound? BARROW: Larry, for the first time in three years, I hear a complete Beatles performance because of a very fine loudspeaker system which lets every note and every word come over clearly and ring ’round this super stadium. The Beatles were talking about it to people around them for days, particularly comparing it to less adequate setups in places as we went on. The sound was astonishing, so much so that Lennon, on the way to the cars, shouted at me, "You were right, baby, you were right, baby! Sounded great!"

[—from Ticket to Ride: Inside the Beatles’ 1964 Tour that Changed the World, Larry Kane]

#the bugs being so excited about a venue actually having adequate amplification that they talk about it to everyone for days!! #(the ebook edition this quote is from only has 1964 in the title but contains the 1965 segment as well lest the dates appear suspect) #ticket to ride: inside the beatles' 1964 tour that changed the world #ticket to ride #larry kane #the beatles #john lennon #1965 #1965 american tour #touring years #atlanta

[kim-they-them]

I want to talk about how interconnected the genocide of the Palestinian people and the ongoing covid pandemic are.

Just as the 1918 flu pandemic desensitized the world to mass death and disability leading into WWII, the ongoing covid pandemic has also desensitized the world today leading into the genocide of Palestinian people.

The genocide of the Palestinian people is a mass disabling event, and it is compounded by imposed starvation and the mass spread of diseases, including covid. Israel is actively depriving Palestinians of food, clean water, medicine, fuel, electricity, and covid vaccines through occupation and blockade.

Just as Israel imposes apartheid on Palestinians, the US imposes medical apartheid on all marginalized groups of people. Indigenous and Black communities are especially disproportionately affected by covid.

Also taking place in majority Black communities are the establishment of Cop Cities. Atlanta, GA and Baltimore, MD are just two examples of the nation-wide cop city roll out. These cop cities will be used for further militarization of US police officers and an intensification of the Deadly Exchange. The Deadly Exchange is a training and exchange program between the Israeli Defense Forces and US police officers. This will only amplify discriminatory and apartheid practices already existing in US policing.

Atlanta, GA just narrowly escaped a face covering and mask ban, as the state of Georgia is criminalizing protests against the Atlanta Cop City. Georgia is prosecuting cop city protestors with RICO charges right now, and they have started raiding protestors’ homes.

In Washington DC, another majority Black community, fascist “anti-crime” bills are being rammed through by Mayor Bowser. The Secure DC Omnibus Amendment Act was just advanced by the DC City Council unanimously. While the bill contains a large list of horrifying measures, I want to point out the ban of face coverings, which does extend to masks and respirators.

With the unwinding of all federal and state covid policies and prevention measures, we have very few tools left to protect ourselves as individuals from repeated covid infections. Criminalization of masks and respirators will make Black, disabled, and marginalized DC residents even more at risk of disability or death from covid.

It is so important that we understand how the ongoing covid pandemic and genocide of the Palestinian people are connected. As a community we must take both of these mass disability and death events seriously. Please wear a high quality mask (a KN-95 or N-95), and check out your local mask bloc for access to masks and covid tests. Incorporate covid safety into your praxis and activism for Palestine, the DRC, Sudan, Tigray, and so on. We are in World War III; we must build and act in community now

#covid #covid isn't over #covid19 #disability #disabled #long covid #chronic illness #free gaza #all eyes on rafah #treatgazachildren #feed north gaza #free palestine #free tigray #free haiti #free sudan #free yemen #free drc

[livsthetruth]

SIMONE’S LETTER LOGISTICALLY MADE NO SENSE. Simone and Jordan were coming home from Spencer’s apparel event together, they were standing outside, it cuts away and when it cuts back he’s standing in the same spot with the letter. Did he watch her write the letter? Did she ask for a pen and paper from the beach house? Was he allowed to watch her as she wrote it or did she hide the contents with her hand like he’s cheating on a test like I’m so confused by what happened? Because Spencer comes home right after and is looking for Simone to say thank you for showing him the post about Olivia so that’s how short the time period is, he is just coming home from that same event and Jordan’s holding the letter and sad. That’s how short the time frame was. It wasn’t like she left and came back so it was later in the night and handed it to him as she is leaving to Atlanta. An entire season building to that break up and that moment and that’s how it went. All you can do is laugh really.

#all american #jordan baker #simone hicks #jordan x simone #simone x jordan #jimone #considering they planned everything around them and the break up it felt like that wasn't planned at all #like their annulment #rushed

[freifraufischer]

Nellie Kim, judging at the Atlanta Olympic Test Event.

#nellie kim #gymnastics

[incarnateirony]

Y'all stop. Stop trying to make me One Of You. Stop trying to involve me in stan nonsense. Stop trying to involve me in fandom only arguments of idiots choosing to be idiots for the social roleplay of it all.

I have been very clear, for many years, what my real issues were. For years, you guys also tried to diminish that into your personal stan wars. The reality of the dismantling of old TBS, the bulk cancellation of shows, real BTS racist treatment or injuries my friends took, all of this you could declare Imaginary or Unimportant;

because the only thing important to yall is fighting about 3 pretty actor men and one gay ship you either want at the cost of all people around you be damned, or don't want to the same, and have let the preferences determine interpretation of real life events until the social environment is lost to its own performance art, ignoring the real battle you're fighting about.

Shippers wanted to scream queerbait and feel like they were doing something, antis screamed nuh uh delusional, and somehow the writers, market testing, et al didn't matter, only your preferences and screaming did, reality was a sidebar to yall.

Did I weaponize this fandom's anger? Abso fuckin lutely. But I had even almost accepted the ending as a Bad Ending until I realized ten years of my ground ax and studying this business for weak points lined me up for a hole in one with the assembly being built, the netflix deal lapsed, and all other situations pinning the CW in a corner with a rapidly changing industry--even knowing I could turn guns bigger than CW, WB, Paramount et all on the lot of them from syndicates if they were crunched right. Their streaming and internationals sank, their ratings gouged, and even syndicates were Over It, and so the Nexstar sale to make their own stations sustainable before complete obsoletion.

These are literally things you guys do not understand, but also refuse to. Failing to understand and failing to listen are actually very different things. And when you fail to listen for years, the perspectives, agendas, motivations or purpose of other people will be outright alien to you by the time you try to observe it outside of your own box.

Most of your boxes are "stan: an obsessive fan, usually in the name of a high visibility individual, named after the psychosis in Eminem's song, Stan". This is not my interest. Read all of the above and realize how Fundamentally Different Our Interests And Ambitions Are, and figure out why my style of speaking or information has ALWAYS remained external to main fandom "approved" boxes. Because I am not here for your stan boxes, and do not care about your psychotic stan rules and the illusion of any kind of control fans have over this space.

Figure it out, kids. No matter how angry you get in my inbox, we will never be the same, and your anger alone reveals in your "OMG U TINK UR DA MOST ITK STAN" freudian nonsense where your own heads are at and WHY my real world data is incompatible with the relativity void of "all opinions are equal and relative in screaming stan land".

Naw man. Supernatural was the show that gave Pedowitz the bright idea to ship EVERYTHING to Vancouver and fuck everybody. You think I'm really an SPN stan? Fuckin shit. I'm a Person Who Enjoys Supernatural but if it had exploded before Pedowitz had ever fucked up Atlanta, I would not be upset and we would not be here. I was not a friend to Supernatural, I have been very clear on that, but a fight to an internal battle the screaming stans here ignored going on completely until it started slapping them, and they could only adjust their narratives to pretending it was sudden, denying the years-old receipts showing how internally long lived the damn thing was. Because stans don't care about reality. They care about controlling their own fictional narratives.

'OMG U TINK UR ABOVE US' yeah, I fuckin do. Sometimes the real world is like that and people know more than you. Cope. You're probably a grown up. Deal with that. You guys are operating as Stans Of A Tv Show You Want Social Attention In. I am operating as Someone With 10+ year old personal/professional grudge and intuitive corporate nuance understanding. These are not compatible views but I will not let the reality of the latter be silenced by the performative attention seeking of the former.

People like 2po still trying to spin S15 as sudden and pretending WB paid for real expensive market testing ($400/participant, 2~ hour long, 1 on 1 Destiel Study circa Goodbye Stranger, DVD extras, and intensive romance grilling) in S12 (which he denied for 3 years until slapped with the receipts I had the whole time, which were always real, and he was always Completely Divorced From The Reality Of) for No Reason At All about The Exact Thing Three Years Earlier When The Show Started Shifting? Definitional stan psychosis, trying to control a fictional social narrative.

The reality is, that's years of this asshat being completely unplugged on both the writing, showrunning, AND corporate events, of which waterfalls of other ramifications blossomed for the years after, but the entire tree of process is something that will remain blind to them in reality until they accept what Things Actually Mean, and What Actually Happened, not Their Version Of How They Wanted To Read Things Happening At The Time. Anything else is grafting a fictional narrative over reality and hoping nobody picks up the rug to see what the pile you brushed under it is.

But he needs that fictional narrative, and those like him that eat from his lying, fiction-dealing hand. He refuses to trace back his own branch of observation to the core point in season 12 he turned left at albuquerque and in a result he's gonna keep going off on a branch into fantasy land, twisting over himself again and again as his own talking points self-conflict on his claims of how HE thinks things will work, branching again, and again, at each junction growing further away from the trunk, until his fiction is so grand he's lost HIMSELF to it.